


I'll rewire your Mind

by rainftw



Series: Married at first sight [6]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mildly Sapiosexual John, Roger in glasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainftw/pseuds/rainftw
Summary: John has a thing for Roger in glasses. John is also scared Roger feels insecure about said glasses. Things work out just fine.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: Married at first sight [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855069
Comments: 19
Kudos: 37





	I'll rewire your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> All set in Early 1981. There's scene hops but I hope it's generally understandable. Enjoy <3

A lot of things change in a decade, especially when the band you’d joined for fun had taken off and were playing concerts _globally_. Things had evolved and somehow John had found himself somewhat _known_ , or maybe even slightly _famous_ , which was unnerving at times. Roger ravelled in it though, fame suited him so well it seemed like second nature, like it was an obvious thing the world had to know about him sooner rather than later.

Despite the years passing by without abandon, there were still few things John _didn’t_ admire about Roger. Except maybe that half-bowl cut he’d had about a year ago. If pressed, John would say it was strangely adorable, but only under knife threat, alright.

To be fair, Roger had almost cried when John had buzzed his whole head of hair off in 78, complained about not having something to keep his hands busy anymore. John had been much more preoccupied with avoiding death from heat stroke than providing for Roger’s antsy tendencies. Roger had eventually gotten over it and started playing with John’s fingers instead.

Apart from dramatic haircuts (and boyfriends), they’d started making a, frankly disgusting, amount of money which Roger shouldn’t be trusted with, ever. The first thing he did once he saw John’s royalty check for “Another One Bites The Dust” was to curl up and stuff his face into John’s throat, which naturally made John very suspicious. And rightfully so, as not a month later he held the key to their new _house_ and had a very clingy boyfriend upon his arm.

If there was a “learn to say no to a pouty Roger” class in school, he’d surely missed it.

He figured it was more than worth it, though. Having moved their furniture in and sat slouching on the sofa in their new living room, it all felt new and different but eerily familiar all the same.

As John was watching Roger writing out, presumably, lyrics into his songbook, illuminated by the orangey glow of sunset, he was perplexed by how much remained exactly the same.

Roger was still nuzzling into his back as John awoke in the morning, John was still the better cook out of them by miles and, most importantly, their respective rings were still encompassing their fingers just as perfectly as ever.

While Roger still woke up first, John was still the one to make breakfast, Roger remained the big romantic while John kept level-headed. Somewhat.

John relaxed into the hold of Roger’s arms later that night, pondering over how they’d built this life around their personalities. That _they_ had very much stayed the same. He placed a sure kiss upon Roger’s forearm and drifted off the way he had been throughout his entire twenties, nestled safely in Roger’s embrace.

At twenty-nine, it still felt just as great.

Roger still made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

All in all, things remained the same within their new two-story home so much so that the minuscule detail John found that morning tipped something off in his head.

Roger was sitting at the kitchen table, doing the crossword. Which wasn’t out of the ordinary by any means, but he was doing it with _glasses_ on. And not the shaded kind. Something in John’s chest thumped for attention as his throat went strangely dry.

With his next step into the room, Roger was naturally aware of his presence as he greeted him with the warmest smile. “Morning, love.”

John felt frozen in place, he couldn’t place what exactly it was but Roger looked so incredibly…smart? Another weird kink to add to his list and be incessantly mocked for, then.

He managed to splutter out a strained “hello” before scrambling for the coffee machine. Making their breakfast in relative silence, aside from the quiet humming Roger was doing under his breath, John was sure he’d never grow sick of hearing it.

John put a cup down in front of Roger’s face a couple of minutes later, when the sun had risen almost the full way up and the clock read just before 9. There was a thin layer of snow dusting the grass of their garden and Roger’s eyes were so beautifully framed by the dark rim of the glasses, his fingers so awfully pretty wrapped around the pen in his hand.

“Rude.” Roger muttered, turning away from him.

“Huh?” John responded eloquently, shaking himself out of his daze.

Roger looked up at John when he had sat himself down on the other side of the table, smirking slightly. “Staring.” Roger emphasised. “It’s rude.”

John kicked Roger’s shin beneath the table. “We’ve been together 10 years.” John stated smugly. “Ought to think we’re a bit beyond staring.”

Roger seemed to ponder it for a few seconds, swishing the coffee around in his mouth, ungracefully for someone who was once studying dentistry. “You don’t like them?” He asked as he finally swallowed his drink.

John looked at Roger quizzically, non-verbally communicating at him to elaborate.

“The glasses.” Roger clarified, toying with the handle on his cup. “A bit nerdy, aren’t they?” He laughed.

John’s fingers clenched around his own cup as he watched Roger squirm a little in his seat. He shook his head quickly “No,” John swallowed and fought back a smile. “They suit you.”

Roger looked at John as if he was trying desperately to decipher whether he was lying or not. John couldn’t help but to notice the slight flush on his cheeks. “You think?” Roger asked again, which wasn’t _abnormal_ but it wasn’t something Roger did often. Ask for compliments.

John knew when Roger just wanted a slight reassurance and then let it go when he saw it.

“You look great.” He said sincerely, wishing desperately he could tell Roger just how good he looked without being accused of being a complete liar and forced to sleep in the guest bedroom.

Roger smiled shyly and pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, John squeezed his things together subtly.

“Thank you.” Roger said. John nodded.

Another time.

—

The thing is, John would definitely categorise himself as an over-thinker but not necessarily one for introspection, in particular.

He would check equipment over and over again, making sure everything was tuned alright and plugged into the right socket. Would make sure the stove really was turned off before he went to bed and checked the door was locked before he left. The usual.

Because if he could make sure the practical world around him was in working order, he would be too. It fell in natural progression and it worked for him.

Roger, he thought as he glanced over at his boyfriend, he was much more complex.

John watched as he combed his fingers through his hair and stared himself down in the mirror. He admired how easily confidence came to him, Roger looked good and he _knew_ he did. What was puzzling was how much he genuinely cared about other people’s opinions.

“Top button done or undone?” Roger asked, turning around to look at John.

Yeah, that’s exactly what John’s brain was rattling on about. “Undone.” He replied casually, watching as Roger nodded as he turned back towards the mirror.

John fiddled with the ring on his finger as he tried to shut his thinking up, it wasn’t exactly productive behaviour.

“C’mon!” Roger urged once he was done, wrapping a sure arm around his waist as he guided him out of their house and into the car.

John fiddled with the visor as Roger expertly reversed out of their driveway, he really was good at that.

It was the small things he’d started to notice the longer they’d been together, when the initial borderline obsessive stages of crushing had turned into a more bearable form of security, he’d gotten to know Roger. From there he’d really gotten to know _Roger_. He shook his head and stared at Roger’s profile, thankful he’d chosen to wear his sunglasses today.

He knew him like the back of his own stupid hand. It was as if he didn’t only know _when_ he was going to react to something but also _why_ , knowing someone this intrinsically was confusing at best. 

Hence why he couldn’t help but to dwell on why it’d taken Roger ten _years_ to feel comfortable enough to wear his glasses around John.

Deep rooted insecurities were fragile, and if that was the case John didn’t want to pry. Just in case.

Didn’t help that the sight of Roger in them stirred John’s loins a little, it made him feel slightly guilty actually.

Lord knows he’d feel mortified if one of Roger’s biggest turn-ons was how much John stuttered when he was nervous.

Before he could think himself to the point of no return there was a sharp elbow to his rib as the world swooshed by.

“Fucking, ouch!” John hissed.

Roger withdrew his arm from where it genuinely felt like it was lodged in between John’s ribs, giggling discretely. “M’ sorry, sharp turn.” He said, turning to look at John for a split second before returning his attention to the road ahead.

John’s brain short-circuited as he stared at Roger’s grinning face. “Sharp turn?” John asked, incredulous.

“Yes John, sharp turn, you know-“ He rotated the wheel harshly to demonstrate, to which John considered almost fucking jumping out of the vehicle. Roger was _stellar_ at reversing, John figured he could leave the rest of the driving up to him though. “Was protecting you.”

John pretended his heart didn’t flutter a little bit. “I’m not a baby.” He replied instead, mock-petulantly.

“You’re not even thirty yet,” Roger mumbled, shaking his hair out. John suspected he was checking himself out more than the actual drive-by cars in the rearview mirror. “You’re my baby.”

John grimaced. “Are you trying to get me to break up with you?”

Roger turned around to face him. “Is it working?” He asked with a lilt in his voice, raising his eyebrows.

John didn’t dignify that with an answer.

Roger may or may not be insecure about being seen in glasses but it was comforting knowing he was still as annoying as ever.

—

“John!” Roger yelled from downstairs.

John ignored him in favour of fiddling with the television they’d installed in their bedroom. It was highly unnecessary and his 21 year old self would’ve surely scoffed at him in distaste if he saw his future self. Mocked him for how he spent his money and managed his finances. Almost-30 year old John could afford a TV in his room though, and he was hellbent on making it work.

“Deaky!” Roger’s shrill voice was a lot closer now, startling John into slamming his head against the table he was crouching beneath. Huffing out a quiet “Fuck.” While rubbing at his aching head.

“That looked painful.” Roger said, John didn’t have to turn around to know he was slouching against the doorframe. He flipped him off gracefully before shuffling out from beneath the table and sitting down cross-legged on the floor.

Just as he suspected, Roger was stood with crossed arms against their doorframe with a sly grin on his face. He was wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and black jeans, the smooth skin of his chest had started growing fuzzy hairs with each passing year, which was quite attractive. What made John’s breath really catch in his throat though was the fucking reading glasses.

John didn’t know if he’d been caught ogling this hopelessly for _years_.

Roger pouted for a second, misreading the silence, before going to sit down at the edge of their bed, coaxing John between his legs and pressing a tender kiss against his bruised skull. John shuddered slightly before dropping his forehead against Roger’s thigh.

“Did you turn the heating up again?” Roger whispered against his hair.

John nodded, tuning into the calming sensation of having his scalp scratched. “T’ was bloody freezing.”

Roger’s hand travelled from his head and down to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. John winced as he pushed directly onto a tight knot. “Sorry.” Roger mumbled apologetically.

“That’s alright.” John reassured, letting himself be massaged by a very handsome, very reading-glasses-clad Roger.

Roger hummed, pushing his thumbs into the tight muscles of John’s upper back. “Could just use me to heat you up.” Roger said, conversationally. “Like the good old days.” He added, almost sentimentally.

John giggled, reaching up to entangle their fingers and leaning back to properly slump his back against the edge of their bed, in-between Roger’s legs. “I’m hard already.” John admitted, with enough deadpan to let Roger steer the direction from there. Tilting his head back so he could watch Roger’s face, upside-down.

Roger quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?” Roger’s voice was rough, as were the pads of his fingers dancing down John’s throat to slip beneath the neckline of his jumper.

If he were a better person he’d not be secretly getting off to the sight of Roger in his glasses. He’d tell him and it’d all probably still be just fine.

John shuddered slightly, before angling his head and noticed that Roger’s glasses had slid down his nose and shuddered even more. His hips rutted against his own will like he was 19 again, lazily rolling his head so it was pressed neatly into Roger’s inseam and breathing hotly there.

Somewhere in between feeling Roger’s cock filling out against his cheek and Roger’s fingers pinching at his nipples, he’d started absentmindedly palming himself.

“You really are feeling randy, huh?” Roger rasped out, sounding mildly impressed. He pinched John’s nipple hard, making him whine high in his throat.

John nodded hastily, feeling his cheeks heat up as Roger’s bulge grew even firmer beneath his face. “Yeah.” John admitted, although it was glaringly obvious. “Wanna suck you off.”

Roger sucked in a sharp breath above him, making something bloom within John’s chest, even as Roger’s hand was withdrawn from beneath his shirt and started working on his own trousers.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Roger muttered as he got his weeping cock out for John to latch onto.

John turned around and watched Roger’s face for a second, pumping him with his fist languidly. There was a slight flush high upon his cheekbones and he was breathing a little heavier than normal and _thankfully_ he was still wearing those damn glasses that made John almost cream himself. His mouth watered as his cock twitched pathetically.

He kissed the head of Roger’s cock before sinking down gently, he wasn’t the biggest fan of sucking cock but he _was_ the biggest fan of making Roger feel good. And he intended to make him feel _really_ good, especially with the newfound craving for something heavy resting on his tongue. He swirled it around Roger a couple of times, whining as Roger’s fingers tangled in his short hair, sending zaps of pleasure all the way to his groin.

“Fuck I-“ Roger choked on his words as John looked up at him with heady eyes. “I’m so glad you’ve grown your hair out.” He panted, grasping at the hair at the nape of John’s neck for emphasis, John gasped slightly in response, quick to cover his teeth with his lips.

He sucked until his own pants were gross and wet and Roger’s breathing was the loudest thing in the room. Roger’s hips bucking wildly against his face as his own were rocking back and forth blindly against nothing. He felt heady and dazed and really, really good.

“Gonna come.” Roger announced, pushing lightly at John’s shoulder. “In your mouth?”

John slowly pulled off with a wet sounding pop, trying to focus on Roger’s flushed face through his own heavy eyelids. “On my face.”

Roger raised his eyebrows as John picked up the pace around him with his hand. “Please.” John whined, watching Roger intently as he choked on a moan.

Roger groaned low and deep. “Close your eyes.” He managed to say between heavy breaths. Grunting a couple more times as he spilled over John’s face, come dripping down his chin and collecting in his cupids bow, John’s hips were rolling in steady circles against his own hand.

John clumsily unzipped his trousers as Roger wiped his own come from the corner of John’s eye. The image of Roger with his glasses low on his nose was fresh on his mind as he tugged himself off quickly and efficiently. It didn’t take more than an embarrassingly short minute for him to shoot off.

Instantly, John felt mortified, which hadn’t happened since he came after two seconds of Roger sinking his throat down on him in 73. Roger had learnt not to overdo the foreplay with a 22 year old John after that, if he wanted anything to _last_ for any substantial amount of time. He’d been sweet about it, in the way they usually were sweet to each other. Through incessant mocking.

John could hear footsteps coming from their en-suite bathroom before he felt Roger wiping his face down gently, then reaching down to shamelessly get John’s flaccid cock clean as well. After ten years of being together there surely wasn’t an ounce of shame left, so John didn’t know why this Roger-in-glasses debacle was cooking up a storm inside his head.

Roger came out from the bathroom a couple minutes later in a massive sleep-shirt. “Tired yourself out did you?” Roger laughed as John struggled out of his soiled jeans.

John huffed as he finally got the other leg out and threw the pants straight towards Roger’s face. “Piss off!”

Roger threw John’s jeans into the hamper before strutting over and tackling him onto the bed. “Mmh” Roger hummed, wiggling his nose just under John’s jaw before looking down at him. John’s breath caught in his throat against his will. “I don’t think you want me to.”

John swallowed thickly and pushed Roger’s hair away from his face. “I could agree you’re right, but at what cost?” He choked out, because Roger was heavy upon his body but he really didn’t want him off just yet.

“I dunno, to inflate my ego a little more?” Roger pouted.

“Not bloody likely.” John scoffed and moved to push Roger off of him, finally. “Any bigger and it’ll be a safety hazard.”

Roger feigned offence and pushed at John’s shoulder, moving closer to scratch the skin behind John’s ear nonetheless. “You boost my ego enough anyways.” He whispered.

John sighed into the relaxing motions against his sensitive skin. “Yeah?”

“Definitely.” Roger said, kissing the hallow of John’s throat. John let his eyes slip shut. “Especially when you can’t even hold off for five minutes.” He giggled.

John fucking hated him.

—

It’d all gone downhill from there really. John figured Roger might’ve even figured it out for himself.

He was getting more and more comfortable with wearing them, instead of just using them for doing the morning crossword, he’d wear them around the house. It’d almost killed John when Roger had started wearing them to bed, when he was sat shirtless with his hair dishevelled and, sometimes, a fucked out glow about him along with the bloody glasses perched upon his nose.

John’s heart was swollen beyond belief and he wasn’t sure it’d ever go down.

The car thing was _Roger’s_ but then he’d started wearing the glasses when he _drove_ and now John was the one with the car thing. It was getting out of hand. He’d need it fucked out of his system before he did something like ask to blow Roger while he was driving, that was Roger’s gig, not his.

Aside from having boners where boners weren’t usually had and the ambiguous feeling that came with it, the absolute best thing was how comfortable Roger was with John seeing him like that. It made John feel disgustingly warm inside. 

Roger had muttered around a cup of tea late one night that the only reason he didn't like them was because they "clashed with his image".

John didn’t think they clashed with his image at all, rather it brought forward another side of Roger, one that maybe he wasn’t as proud of but that John loved. It reminded him of the Roger who could do anything he wanted, because he worked for it. A Roger who was decisive, and so insanely smart, in all categories.

Because at the end of the day it was just Roger, and it was just a pair of glasses but it _mattered_ , alright. For now, it did.

Sitting in the armchair opposite to him in their home office while he was absentmindedly checking over John’s paperwork, because he _wanted to be useful_ , all made John’s chest felt tight.

Because Roger didn’t care about finances or contractual business and John hadn’t _asked_ for his help but here he was. Chewing on a fingernail as he read through the scribbles John had added to their newest contract.

“You’re doing it again, you know.” Roger mumbled, still not looking up from the piece of paper in his hand.

John smiled fondly even as a flush threatened to break out over his face. “Can’t blame me.”

Roger hummed as he let his hand slip beneath his shirt to rub at, what John could only assume, was his aching shoulder muscles. “Me helping you with paperwork getting you in the mood?” Roger looked up and pressed a pencil against his lip suggestively.

John stuck his tongue out maturely in response. “What if it did?”

“Then,” Roger walked around the desk to promptly sit himself down on John’s lap. “I’d be doing it way more often.”

John wrapped his arms around Roger’s middle. “The erectile dysfunction yet to kick in?” He spoke into Roger’s shirt.

Roger swatted him on the side of his thigh that was within reach. “Fuck you.” He laughed. “I’m barely a day over thirty.”

John smiled and hugged Roger a little bit tighter. “I know.”

“You’re one to speak anyways.” Roger continued, rolling his arse against John’s semi, to prove some sort of point.

“That’s unfair.” John groaned. “You’re sat in my lap.”

Roger laughed heartily, until John placed a hand over his thigh, squeezing with intent. Causing Roger to swiftly turn around to straddle him and consequently moan high in his throat as John slipped his tongue between his lips. John felt as though he was bursting at the seams to pester Roger with compliments and praise.

John managed to pull away for breath after Roger whined at the hand John had slipped into his back pocket. “You look so sexy.” He breathed into Roger’s exposed clavicle.

Roger gasped as John fondled his arse, pressing them closer together. “Yeah?” He said breathily, studying John’s face for a couple of beats, John could feel his cheeks heat up as he kept Roger’s gaze. Revelled in being Roger’s current field of study, so to speak. “This really doing it for you?” Roger questioned, cradling John’s face in his palm.

John leant into Roger’s hand, tilting his head to press a kiss against the inside of his wrist. “Yeah.” it was embarrassing how much his voice wavered with his shuddering breaths.

Roger stroked his thumb across John’s cheek and leant down to place open mouthed kisses across his throat, John felt like he might combust. The kisses were warm and wet and made his entire body buzz and his brain leak out of his ears, Roger working from the open collar of his shirt to his jugular and up towards the back of his ear. John urged Roger to start rolling his hips with the hand still in his pocket.

Roger complied and grunted right into John’s ear. “What about them do you like?” Roger whispered. “Tell me.”

John took a deep breath and buried his face in Roger’s shoulder, trying to rock his hips up to match his pace. “Intelligent.” He muttered, sucking at the skin between Roger’s shoulder and neck before pulling away to meet his eyes. “They make you look so intelligent.”

Roger stared at him with quirked eyebrows while John used his remaining willpower to stare right back, breathing heavily.

“It’s because I am.” Roger proceeded to say with an exaggerated wink that made John’s erection flag slightly.

John groaned and pushed Roger’s shirt out of his jeans to rub his thumb against the smooth skin of his hip. “If you’re just gonna take the piss,”

“I’m not.” Roger interrupted him. “Just surprised you like em’ so much, that’s all.”

John sighed. “I like _you_.” He said, eloquently. Relieved when Roger smiled as if he got the point even if it wasn’t put across too well at all.

“I like that you’re smart too.” Roger said strangely earnestly, standing up and grasping John’s hand to drag him along to the bedroom.

John huffed as he was thrown onto the bed, taking a moment or three to appreciate the sight of Roger standing at the edge of their bed getting his clothes off while he struggled out of his own. Relaxing instantly as Roger clambered on top of him, covering him from the cold that was threatening shivers.

He reached up to remove his glasses when John suddenly wrapped his hand around his forearm, “Don’t,” Roger looked at him with amusement in his eyes. “Just fuck it out of my system.” John continued breathily, slotting a thigh in between Roger’s legs.

Roger gave him a long hard kiss before pulling away and holding up a bottle of vaseline. “Way ahead of you.”

Had Roger not chuckled and gripped his thigh, John would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he spread his legs.

—

Roger had fucked it right out of his system alright. Left with cooling sweat upon his skin and a heart rate that was refusing to go down he felt utterly exhausted and _beyond_ sated. He grinned dazedly up at the ceiling as Roger let himself soften still inside of him, John clenched just to hear him groan softly, earning himself a bite to the shoulder.

“Want me to pull out?” Roger asked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, John shuddered at the gust of breath.

“Not yet.” He decided, Roger nodded and hugged him a little tighter.

It was nice, moments like these. Having Roger in every way, shape and form. His weight was heavy and comforting on top of him, grounding and pleasant. John tangled his fingers through Roger’s hair and tuned into his breathing as it steadied out properly.

“We fogged up my glasses.” Roger mumbled into John’s skin.

“Yeah?” John let out a breathy laugh, he felt delighted all of a sudden. Spurred on even more by the vibrations of Roger’s laugh he could feel against his naked chest. “Let me see.”

Roger peeked out from his hiding place and let John cradle his face to inspect the damage. John barely suppressed a cooing noise coming from his own mouth at the little pout Roger was sporting. Aside from melting at the sight of his 30 year old boyfriend, John was smart enough to state that Roger’s glasses were indeed, fogged over and smudgy.

He grasped them by the frames and gently took them off Roger’s face, placing them on the bedside table.

Before him now was a very glasses-free Roger, squinting like he could barely see John, which, fair point.

“D’ya still want me, all bare faced and that?” Roger teased.

John pondered over whether or not he was gonna humour him.

“Still got your cock in my arse haven’t I?” He settled on, squeezing around Roger for emphasis.

Roger hissed at the stimulation. “Git.” He thrust up a few times lazily despite himself, John relaxed back into the pillows and dragged him down for a lazy kiss. “Can I pull out now or is cock-warming your new thing?”

John nibbled at Roger’s bottom lip as he went in for another session. “Go on then.”

Despite being gentle, Roger pulled out with a disgusting sounding squelch as John’s muscles were left to clench around nothing. He was never a fan of this part, his thighs seemed to start aching more and more with each year. The delicious ache that was a reminder of great sex had started turning into stiff thigh muscles the day afterwards.

Roger clambered back into bed after going to the bathroom, not bothering to put on clothes. John was glad, he liked to snuggle up to Roger’s bare chest.

“Could’ve just told me.” Roger mumbled into the top of his head, grasping John’s hand as it was absentmindedly tracing patterns against Roger’s pec.

John felt slightly stupid for not doing just _that_ , now that he knew how it turned out. “It’s kind of strange isn’t it?” He mumbled instead.

“We’ve done stranger things.” Roger chuckled. “Remember when I insisted I could get your zipper down using only my teeth.”

John couldn’t suppress the grin at the memory, Roger had looked so incredibly defeated after his seven minute struggle as he smiled apologetically up at John. He’d damn near chipped a tooth in the process.

“That’s different.” John argued.

“Obviously.” Roger scoffed. “This time was actually sexy.” He said, flattening John’s palm beneath his own against his sturdy chest.

“You think?” John said, relaxing along with the steady thumping of Roger’s heart.

“Daft question.” Roger laughed.

John frowned at the nonchalance. Something in his chest tugged at the thought of dropping the subject as his mind was still buzzing. “Thought you were insecure about them.” He mumbled.

Roger took a deep breath. “I’m not _thrilled_ about them.” Roger explained, John’s felt slightly sick, he knew it. “But, John-“ Roger urged his head up with a hand beneath his jaw. “Nothing makes me feel sexier than when you look at me like _that_.”

The turbulence in John’s chest cleared up a little. "You're always sexy to me." He leaned forward to place a light kiss onto the corner of Roger’s lips. Pleased when Roger was smiling at him fondly to mirror the feeling inside his own chest. “I love you.”

Roger smiled and cradled him close to his beating heart yet again, kissing the top of his head. “Love you too.”

—

The cold persistent winter had turned into early spring smoothly enough for the two to barely notice in their newly acquired, heating-equipped house lifestyle.

The short trip to Japan for touring probably helped ease them into it too. Not because it was a lot warmer but the change of scenery always helped. John wouldn’t be caught complaining about it anyways. Judging by the look of Roger’s face, he wasn’t likely to either.

John twirled his drink around, frowning slightly when he realised just how beautiful Roger looked sprawled out on the sofa like that. Come to think of it he was feeling rather sloshed. And in the mood to appreciate the fine imagery that was Roger on a backstage sofa.

Must be something in the Tokyo air.

“That’s vile, John!” Brian screamed from the opposite end of the dressing room.

John startled before reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Roger to flip a cackling Brian and sniggering Freddie off. Come to think of it he should’ve flipped Crystal one as well, since he was always in on everything. Ever. He was a lucky one chair away from the fire this time.

Roger seemed oblivious to it all as he ripped at the palm of his hand.

“Shush, that’s the most romantic I’ve seen them be in years.” Freddie talk-whispered, ever so discreetly. John pretended not to hear.

“You telling me you haven’t had the pleasure of walking in on them-“

“For fucks sake Crystal!” John was quick to interrupt despite the room starting to spin in front of his eyes. The alcohol really took it’s time to kick in this time.

Crystal threw his hands up. “Wrong time, wrong place is my middle name, I swear.” He muttered.

Middle name was an understatement, he might as well get it tattooed on his forehead with how many times he’d caught John and Roger in compromising situations. If it counted as a talent he’d perhaps even be called talented, without a stretch. John knocked the rest of his drink back and walked to sit down next to Roger’s feet. Which he promptly just lifted up to rest in John’s lap.

John wasn’t about to start massaging his feet with how Crystal was raising his eyebrows at him.

“Ouch!” John yelped as a toe was nudged particularly painful to his arm. “The fuck was that for?”

Roger looked like he was holding back the giggles. “M’ sorry.” John still couldn’t resist him.

He made a point out of grabbing Roger’s foot and glared Crystal down as he started massaging the sole. Turning his attention back to Roger. “Got me right on a nerve.”

“That’s his specialty!” Crystal butted in, lighting a cigarette.

Roger just flipped him off, John felt strangely serene. Massaging Roger’s foot with his friends gossiping loudly in the corner.

“D’ya mind?” Roger quipped from beside him, reaching out with his hand to flash John his massive rips and bloodied palms.

John hissed, it did really look painful. He was used to calloused and aching fingers, he couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to rip his entire palms open, even after helping Roger clean them up a couple dozen times.

“You have baby hands.” John grunted as he pulled the rips off, apologising as Roger winced. “Those two months off really didn’t do you any favours, huh?” He continued, hoping the conversation would distract Roger from the pain as he was passed the antiseptic from an ever horrible, ever observant and mildly caring Crystal.

“Bloody hurts.” Roger said curtly, eyes squeezed shut against the sting.

John kissed the inside of his wrist gently as he dabbed the wounds clean. “Played great though.”

“Hey!” Brian yelled.

“You played great too, Brian.” John said absentmindedly, not looking up from Roger’s hand.

“Ah, give us a kiss.” Freddie said, kicking his feet up on the vanity.

“No.” John deadpanned.

Out of everything, that’s what made Roger cackle. “Deaky has _taste_.” He winked as he calmed down.

“Deaky would shag you even with your bloody glasses on.” Crystal spoke around his cigarette, blowing the smoke into Freddie’s face who rightfully smacked him across the chest in return. “ _Taste_ , my arse.”

“Deaky would like everyone to shut up.” John muttered assertively while dropping Roger’s hand as he was done cleaning it.

The room did go silent for all about ten seconds, in which Roger was sporting an impressive smirk as he quickly stood up and reached for John’s hand.

“Best get going, yeah?” He said, looking at John with cheeky wide eyes. John could almost trick himself into thinking it was Roger from nine years ago.

John was slightly puzzled but nodded anyways.

“See you tomorrow!” Roger called hurriedly as he dragged John out of the room with him, through the corridor and straight to their car.

He was sat on top of John’s thighs before he knew it, nibbling at his throat.

“Love it when you do that.” Roger groaned into his ear.

John stilled him with his hands on Roger’s hips. “Do what?”

“Make people listen, as they should.” His hips rolled smoothly into John’s. “There’s something in your aura-“ He babbled. “Please don’t make me explain.” He resigned, playing with the fingers on John’s hand as he guided it around to his ass.

John placed a tender kiss behind Roger’s ear, maybe strange turn-ons weren’t the worst thing in the world.

Perhaps when you were as in tune with each other as him and Roger were, it could arguably be one of the best things.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! 
> 
> I struggled a LOT with this but I just wanted to force myself to post something to get over the writers block. Hopefully I'll be back soon with something a little more coherent!! until next time!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3


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